


Here's to the Night

by Gemmi999



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Community: popoffacork, Gift Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-13
Updated: 2011-06-13
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:43:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemmi999/pseuds/Gemmi999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Frank thought about it for a second—anonymous sex with a perfect stranger, or another couple of shots before stumbling home down the empty street into his empty bed. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Here's to the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wasoncedelight](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=wasoncedelight).



> AU, set in a universe where the band decided not to hire Brian and are still really small after 6 years on the road.

Frank shuddered as the strong alcohol hit the back of his throat and slid down into his stomach. With a frown Frank set the shot glass back onto the counter gently and gestured impatiently at the bartender for another.

 

Waiting, Frank glanced around the dimly lit bar. It wasn’t especially crowded, but it seldom was on Thursdays--women’s night. Instead of flocks of attractive males showing up from miles around, there were four or five middle aged men sitting clumped in the right-hand corner and a group of college-aged students as they giggled and laughed at their own daring for showing up when there were supposed to be lesbians in attendance. Not that there were--it was remarkably poorly advertised and Frank would have been surprised if any of the dykes in town even knew about it, let alone showed up on a regular basis.

 

Frank didn’t mind, though—the Blue Lagoon was only two blocks from his modest apartment, which meant he could stumble home in the wee hours of the night and not put anybody else at risk, that he wouldn’t have to get behind the wheel of a car.

 

And how pathetic was it that he was sitting there, alone, about to have his third shot of vodka (the only alcohol he drank anymore, although he’d thought hard about bourbon). Years ago he would have been part of the college group, feeling falsely brave for trying to score with lesbians; but time passed blissfully, and Frank had to admit to himself that it probably was better for everybody involved that he’d come out and been done with it ages ago. His life was hard enough without the drama being closeted involved.

 

And besides, after coming out? He and Gerard could play it up on stage. Anything to get them noticed, anything to get the band out there. 6 years and hundreds of shows and they were still a small time band, playing college campuses and dive bars. It wasn’t a bad life, but it wasn’t quite what they had pictured starting out, either.

 

Sometimes Frank wondered if they should have taken Brian Schechter’s management offer more seriously, but then he thinks about how much it stressed Mikey and Gee and put the thought out of his mind.

 

Reaching for the shot in front of him, Frank was somewhat surprised to feel the bar stool next to him being pulled out. Out of blatant curiosity he glanced over out of the side-of-his-eye, and nearly fell off his stool as he took in the sight of a practical god seated only two feet away from him.

 

Gaping slightly, Frank forced himself to actually raise the shot to his lips and tip it back. The evening had just taken a turn for the better, that was for sure.

 

Stealthy sneaking glances of the incredibly hot man, Frank nearly missed the stranger introducing himself as one “Bob Bryar,”.

 

Instead, Frank coughed slightly before turning and responding with, “Frank Iero.”

 

Bob raised an overly-attractive eyebrow and seemed to purse his lips before responding: “well, isn’t it my lucky night?”

 

“Is it?” Frank asked.

 

Bob grinned broadly and Frank felt his heart speed up drastically, practically skipping beats which wasn’t cool, and he’d have to have a strongly worded heart-to-heart with his internal organs, but later. Much, much later.

 

“Mine too,” Frank felt shy suddenly, and instead of looking at Bob he perused the rest of the bar. The group of middle-aged men in the corner were gesturing for another pitcher of beer in a garish and perhaps overly-outrageous manner. The college kids had stopped giggling for the moment, and were instead focused on the mixed drinks set before them as if they were huge obstacles to overcome.

 

When Frank turned his attention back to Bob, it was to see him smiling widely, eyes alight with mischief. “Wanna get out of here?”

 

Frank thought about it for a second—anonymous sex with a perfect stranger, or another couple of shots before stumbling home down the empty street into his empty bed. He nodded decisively and stood abruptly. “You read my mind.”

 

Bob stood slower, giving Frank a very apparent once-over. Frank found it slightly disconcerting that he was blushing as if he was a schoolchild, but he pressed forward towards the front door. Part of him wanted to reach back and grasp Bob’s hand firmly in his own, to proclaim that the attractive god-like man was really his for the evening, but thought better of it when he hit the door and was suddenly on a very empty street.

 

Frank hadn’t taken a lot of guys home since coming out, too busy focusing on the music to really try and connect with anyone. He’d had a couple flings, one short-lived relationship, and that was all.

 

Cold air felt wonderful on his overly flushed skin, and he felt indescribably young as Bob stepped out onto the street next to him. It hadn’t been long since his last one-night stand, but Bob had an alluring quality about him, and the alcohol was speeding through Frank’s system making him feel reckless and immortal.

 

“Your place?” Bob whispered lewdly against Frank’s ear, and the subtle nod must have been deciphered because suddenly Bob was standing straight and gesturing for Frank to lead on down the street. Pacific was empty at this time of the night, with fog beginning to roll in from the nearby ocean. The breeze accompanying the fog smelt wonderfully sinful: salty and tangy, bitter to the taste.

 

Frank gasped as he felt Bob lean in and nibble the side of his neck suggestively. “Hurry” was whispered before another slightly nibble was felt, and Frank nearly came on the spot. He turned towards his apartment and began striding forward, not stopping to see if Bob was following, confident in his ability to lead while thinking about all the dirty things he wanted to do to the lithe body following him.

 

Street lamps shown down determinedly as Frank passed Elm and turned onto Ocean, stopping in front of a modest white building that had three mailboxes lined up on the edge of its trimmed and manicured lawn.

 

“I’m in back,” Frank gasped out as Bob leaned in once more to whisper in to his ear. This time he reached for Bob’s large hand and pulled him over the cobblestone path towards the back of the house, then down a flight of stairs to a hidden doorIero with the number 412 painted on in an unexpected teal color.

 

Letting go of Bob’s hand regretfully, Frank leaned into the light shining from his front window and held up a fistful of keys. On a good day it could take him five minutes to find the correct one, but now, with Bob’s breath on his neck and the urge to press back against what was likely a solid wall of muscle and sinew and flesh, Frank fumbled and dropped the keys.

 

Bob smiled wolfishly and slide forward against Frank’s body, slipping down to pick the keys up with his hand. His face ended up right near Frank’s dick, and as much as Frank wanted to be inside the apartment RIGHT NOW, he gave into temptation and pressed forward, gasping as his jean-clad body pressed against Bob’s face, his lips.

 

Bob took the opportunity to burrow forward, opening his mouth and suddenly he was just there and Frank was shaking as he felt the wet suction through his jeans and it was nearly too much.

 

“No, wait ‘til we get inside!” Frank finally had the presence to whisper harshly and Bob leaned back onto the heels of his feet and nodded sheepishly, handing the keys up to Frank and just waiting.

 

Frank flushed at the expression on Bob’s face of pure desire and nearly fumbled the keys once more before he forced himself to take a deep breath and find the right damn key. He promised himself that the next time he was in Ace Hardware he’d buy those dumb key color designators because this right now was just excruciating.

 

“Finally” he proclaimed excitedly as the key number 764 flashed in the light and he pressed it into the lock and it turned triumphantly. “In,” he managed to whimper out as he stepped across the threshold and before he even managed to shut the door behind Bob’s body, he was pressed against a wall and Bob’s tongue was suddenly in his mouth and it was sinfully wonderful.

 

“Door,” he managed to croak out minutes later, and Bob kicked it shut with the side of his foot and Frank groaned in appreciation before he pressed into the warmth and grabbed blindly at Bob’s hair to force another kiss.

 

Time passed, and Frank wasn’t sure if it was eons or decades or only a few minutes but he knew that Bob’s hand was grasping him through his jeans, and he bucked forward, then suddenly he was done and it was embarrassing, coming in his pants like a fucking teenager.

 

Bob didn’t seem to mind, he instead smiled blissfully and jerked Frank’s hand to the front of his pants and seconds later Frank could not only feel but see the spreading stain as Bob groaned and gasped, shuddering to a stop.

 

The two breathed deeply for a few more seconds before Bob grinned and reached behind into his pants for something—Frank guessed a wallet. Time passed slowly as the wallet was pulled out and suddenly a badge was in front of Frank’s face and Bob was smiling apologetically. “I didn’t fully introduce myself at the bar, Bob Bryar. Gee’s friend who came in to help with sound?”

 

And Frank smiled. “Nice to meet you Bob,” before leaning in and kissing him on the mouth, with tongue. “I look forward to getting to know you.”

 

Bob laughed a little. “Me too,” he smiled. “Me too.”


End file.
